Castiel has the Cure
by L.Medora
Summary: Castiel has a cure for Dean's lack of emotional problems. He really didn't mean for it to go so far...but he's glad they did! Set after My Bloody Valentine. Dean/Castiel major slashy! Oneshot...unless anybody has ideas for a continuance....


Times like this were rare—not having anything to do for a while, the only option being to wait. Bobby had left town to meet with a contact about some information that would help with the apocalypse. The contact was the kind of person who didn't take kindly to meeting new people on short notice, so Sam and Dean got left with the duty of house sitting since everything else was at a standstill. Of course this made the boys antsy, knowing that there was still so much evil outside needing to be fought and not being able to do anything about it. So they agreed to take the sitting in shifts—if one of them left the house, the other would have to stay, no matter what. Sam won the rock-paper-scissors battle for time away and was gone in an instant.

Dean sulked around the house for a few hours, tiring out the TV, radio, computer, and even scavenging Bobby's cars out back. He eventually came to a point where he was considering burning the house to the ground so he wouldn't have to deal with it anymore. But then he was saved by the sound of fluttering wings. Dean whirled around and saw Castiel standing in the kitchen with him, just as grave and awkward as ever.

"Oh, hey Cas," Dean said, lowering his arms. Castiel looked down at the lighter fluid and match box in Dean's hands. Dean quickly set them on the kitchen table and smiled innocently.

"I've been trying to contact you," Castiel said, ignoring the action. "But the voice told me I was out of minutes."

"I'll get you some more later," Dean shrugged, sitting down at the table. "So what were you going to talk to me about?"

"I think I may have found a solution to your problem," Castiel said, taking a few steps forward.

"What problem?" Dean frowned. As far as he could tell, he wasn't suffering hair loss and he didn't owe anybody serious money.

"The one that was mentioned by Famine." Dean sighed and leaned back as he realized what his "problem" was.

"Cas," he said, "my lack of emotion isn't exactly top priority compared to, oh, I dunno, the end of the world?"

"You feel fear," Cas pointed out. "That night, I felt it. When I heard you pray. You fear that you are slowly losing your humanity."

"Listen to me," Dean said sternly, rising to his feet. "There are more important things going on that this one on one therapy session. I already went through all that back in Hotel California with the wraith. Not looking for a rerun. So why don't you angel on out of here and find something that can help us gank the devil, okay?"

"You nearly burned down Bobby's house because you were bored," Castiel said slowly, driving the words through. "This is becoming an issue."

Dean glared, knowing that he should feel angry or somewhat violated, but he was only tired. Since Valentine's Day, everybody had been looking at him differently. Sometimes he caught Bobby staring at him worriedly and patting him on the back way too often. Sam at least acted normally since he was receiving the same treatment after his indulgence with the demon blood. Dean just wanted everything to go back to his non-suffering solo.

"If I listen to you," he said, "will you get back to the mission?" He sat back down, resigned.

"Yes," Castiel promised. He eagerly sat at the table across from Dean. "I have located a mythical serum that will work. It has harnessed the powers of empathy in a way that the emotions of whoever it touches is severely intensified. I believe that one drop will be able to blear your mind of the emptiness."

"Okay," Dean shrugged. He doubted that it would work, but he would humor the hopeful angel. "Let's have it."

Castiel nodded appreciatively with a slight smile of triumph. He reached into the inside pocket of his trench coat and frowned. When he withdrew his hand, it was dripping with a watery substance. His jaw locked and his brows furrowed slightly with worry. He reached out and wiped his hand on Dean's t-shirt.

"I don't think that the bottle survived the trip from India," he said.

"Ya think?" Dean said, frowning down at the wet spot on his shirt, feeling his skin soak it up.

*~*

Sam parked the Impala in the parking lot outside the bar. It was already night out, he noticed. He had been driving for a while since it was still light out when he left Bobby's house. He supposed that Dean was already gouging his eyes out with boredom and chuckled to himself. He supposed that some essence of the demon blood was still hanging around. He really needed a drink.

He walked into the bar which was full of people. The smell of burgers, fries, and beer was strong in the air and ACDC made the atmosphere light and seductive. He walked up to the bar and ordered a beer, looking around. Then he noticed a man in a wheel chair, drinking alone. Sam thanked the bartender as she handed him his drink and he began walking forward.

"Bobby?" he said quizzically. Bobby looked up from under his worn out cap and rolled his eyes as though he shoulda' known. Sam pulled up a chair and sat down.

"What're you doing here?" Bobby demanded.

"Dean and I decided to take turns," Sam said. "Dean got the first leg. What are _you_ doing here?"

"You left _Dean alone_ in my_ house?_" Bobby nearly shouted. "You idiot, he'll burn it to the ground!"

"Hey, give him a break," Sam said defensively. "He's been through a lot lately—his whole life! He could use a little alone time."

"Well…" Bobby looked off to the side, avoiding Sam who knew something was up.

"What is it?" Sam asked. He became worried when bobby was evasive. "Bobby, what's wrong?"

"Well, I was actually countin' on this," Bobby admitted. "Sorry bout yelling before. I didn't expect you to ditch so soon. But Castiel came to me with an idea for an intervention and I agreed to go along with it."

"So…there's no contact in Boston?" Sam guessed.

"The man has a phone, ya' idjit."

"I don't get it," Sam said with a frown of confusion. "If this is about an intervention, why aren't we there with him?"

Bobby held up his glass in a salute to nobody in particular then downed the contents.

*~*

Dean sat in bobby's bedroom, staring down at the black t-shirt in his hands. His and Sam's bags were unceremoniously piled in a corner nearby. He knew he should get up at get a new shirt, but he seemed to be weighed down by the onslaught of emotions drowning his mind. He had almost forgotten what it was like to feel this way. The closest he could remember was hunting with Sammy as kids. Before all the drama of him going to college, John dying, then Sam dying, and Dean dying to save him. Back before all that, he had more control over all of this. But after losing it for so long, his sea legs were more than wobbly.

Dean guessed that it must have gotten worse over time after Lucifer had risen. With everything that was going on, he didn't know what to feel so he just stopped trying altogether. But now it was constricting his chest painfully as the full force of his situation finally hit him.

"Dean…" Castiel had appeared in the doorway. Dean looked up at him and saw that he was affected by the serum as well. His face was contorted between agonizing pain, burning curiosity, and heartbreaking sadness.

Castiel stared down at Dean, unsure of what to say. He knew what he _wanted _to tell him—that everything was okay, that he was sorry for everything that had been his fault. But Dean just looked back down at his shirt as though it held more meaning than it truly did.

"Is there any way to reverse it?" Dean asked quietly. Pain struck Castiel as he realized that he was at fault for yet another thing capable of hurting Dean. When Castiel didn't answer, Dean looked up at him and glared. "Cas? Tell me if there's a cure."

"No," Castiel said. "The serum was only a catalyst for what was already there. It has worked the full effect. The rest is up to you."

Dean stood up and angrily tossed his shirt to the side. It flew out the door as Castiel maneuvered to avoid it. "I am sorry," Castiel said, "if you are in pain. But you will learn to cope."

"Who says I ever wanted to?" Dean shouted, whirling around on the angel. "Did anyone ever stop to think that maybe, I was just fine being numb? I was a better hunter that way, not having to feel scared about Sammy or sad for anyone lost. I was a better brother, a better soldier!"

Castiel flinched at the last word. It had always been how Zachariah referred to Dean. He would always make the human seem more like a weapon than a person and Castiel guessed that's how he saw it. Dean had always been the Michael sword—heaven's most powerful weapon. But Cas didn't want Dean to be powerful because he knew that it meant death for him in the end. Right now, he wanted Dean to be pocket sized so that it would be easier to protect him from the world. While thinking this, he took a few steps forward towards Dean who was leaning his head against the window, looking at the outside world.

"I can't do it, Cas," Dean murmured. "I can't handle it all. I told you before, that night in the hospital, after what Alistair did to me, I'm not right for the job. Michael needs to find somebody else…it's not me. It just can't be."

Castiel took a few more steps until he was right at the window as well. Dean turned away from the window, feeling the body heat so near. Her looked into the angel's wide blue eyes and quickly leaned away. Normally he would make a joke about his personal space being invaded.

"What about you?" Dean asked. "You touched the stuff too. Why aren't you calling up Dr. Phil with your problems?"

"Because I have already come to terms with my emotions," Castiel said, narrowing his eyes curiously. "I know exactly what I am feeling, therefore how to control it no matter how intense."

"And what might that be?" Dean pressed. Therapy would never have been a career choice for him in any alternate universe because the thought of listening to somebody talk about themselves all day made him feel suicidal. But he wanted to know what Castiel was thinking. Suddenly, it truly mattered to him. He was surprised at how nerve wracking it was when Castiel's lips formed a tight line as though telling him that there was no way in hell. "C'mon, Cas. Who's it gonna hurt?"

"You," Castiel answered. Dean's eyes widened, taken aback. "I know how your mind works, Dean. Parts of it, anyway. I know how you would react normally but I am unsure how you would react now. So I will not tell you until you have better control."

"Please?" Dean pleaded. "I can't wrap my mind around my head…there's just too much. Just tell me anything to make it stop." He knew his little deception was working when Castiel's eyes got impossibly sadder. It was too easy to manipulate the angel's compassion for his charge and Dean felt guilty for it. God, guilt hurt.

"I am only capable of feeling one thing," Castiel said quietly. "One thing only ever since I was put in charge of you. And that's just it. You. Now that I'm disconnected from heaven and all other angels, you are all that keeps me grounded. You are the reason I betrayed my brothers. The reason I kill them when they pose a threat to you. You are the reason I search for God. If the apocalypse were over, you would be safe and I wouldn't have to worry anymore. I could finally be at rest."

"At rest, you mean…dead?" Dean gulped. He guessed for angels death meant a fluffy winged and haloed oblivion. Something peaceful that made their existences worthwhile until they could be reborn as a flower or something. Castiel must have thought so too if he accepted it so easily.

"Yes," Cas said. He looked down at Jimmy's shiny shoes, feeling Dean's eyes like fire burning through him.

"I make you want to die?" Dean said. He didn't know what kind of pain he was in now—he'd never met it before. Maybe once. But it was so long ago that he barely remembered. It had something to do with a girl named Cassie who broke his heart…

"Not like that," Castiel said quickly. "But…to be truly honest, I do wish that I could be away from you sometimes. Then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much being so near. Do you understand at all what I'm saying?"

"Not really," Dean said with a frown. He folded his arms and stood up straight. "Explain it to me."

"Dean I—" Castiel began. He took a few steps back, not being able to think so close to the other person. Dean knew there was something that Cas seriously didn't want to tell him which made him all the more curious to know.

"Tell me," Dean ordered, recovering the few steps Castiel had taken…and then some.

Castiel looked up, straight into the gleaming green of Dean's eyes and let a familiar kind of peace wash over him. Staring into those eyes was as close to heaven as he could reach since being disconnected. He suddenly felt the full effect of trust and took a deep breath.

"I like…being near you," he admitted. "But I hate it at the same time because I want to be nearer and I know you don't. Sometimes I think that if I am far away for long enough, I won't miss it so much. But it has never worked. Only made it worse. I cannot stand feeling this…so human because it's _confusing_ and overwhelming and altogether painful since I know you will never feel the same."

Dean stood still for a long time, searching Castiel's flushed face. It was strange hearing that Castiel had always felt such emotions but had never been able to express them. In a way it was really kind of…adorable. And much to Dean's surprise, he wasn't heading for the hills like he would any other day.

"You don't know me," Dean said coldly. Castiel looked up at him with near horror in his eyes. He hadn't meant it to come out so harshly, so Dean softened his expression and took another step towards Castiel. "There's something else you want to tell me, isn't there?" Castiel shook his head rapidly. "Don't lie to me," Dean scolded. "Say it."

"Dean, I—" Castiel knew he had overstepped his bounds and wished he could take it all back. But Dean was insisting with another step forward. Then everything changed when Dean reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder. That feeling of total trust returned and he knew that holding back for a second longer might kill him. "Dean, I love you."

Dean's grip on Castiel's shoulder tightened for a brief moment then pulled him forward. Before either of them knew what had just happened, their lips were crashing together, colliding in perfect synchronization. Dean's other arm moved to wrap around the angel's waist, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. But then Castiel's hand wandered up his arm, lightly tracing Dean's biceps until they found the handprint burned into his skin. Dean pulled away with a dramatic gasp and wide eyes. For a while they both just stood there in near silence, breathing heavily and staring at each other.

Dean hadn't expected his entire body to react to Castiel's hand returning to the scar, where it had once been when he rescued Dean from hell. Every molecule of his skin had suddenly become hyperactive and warm and freezing and tingly and fiery all at once and being so far away made him crave the contact and that _feeling_ so much more. But Castiel still seemed scared. Dean didn't want him to be anything other than happy, and he knew just how.

Dean lightly pushed on Castiel's shoulder until the angel obediently followed the motion, walking backwards. His knees were suddenly knocked out from behind him and Castiel fell onto the bed, bouncing back slightly. Dean smirked at the thought of how dead Bobby would kill him if he ever found out then quickly pushed those thoughts out of his mind…he had something much better to think about.

Dean climbed onto the bed, straddling Castiel's lap and made sure he couldn't sit up. He smiled slightly, letting the angel know everything was alright as he gave Jimmy's tie a gentle tug. After all the years playing dress up for the public, Dean was an expert of getting fancy clothes off. He hated the feel of them down to the starchy and stiff feeling of wearing them too long and he was always glad to be back in his comfortable jeans and t-shirts. But rather than treat Castiel's nice clothes like he had treated his own, Dean went slowly, letting the tie easily come undone before dropping it to the floor. Then he moved onto the buttons, slowly popping each one out of place until he reached the very bottom.

Dean's fingers lightly trailed up Castiel's belly, brushing his open shirt out of the way as they went. He admired the way all of his well-shaped muscles gleamed in the dim light of the room. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss there and another one a few inches higher. Then he kisses again directly above where he knew the heart was and felt it beating rapidly beneath his touch. Then his lips returned to Castiel's, meshing them together again. Castiel's lips eagerly parted for Dean, allowing the kiss to deepen more than ever before. Dean relished the way Cas moaned and whimpered with desire, needing more of him, needing to be closer.

Dean sat up again, pulled Castiel with him. He shoved the stalker coat and top half of the monkey suit away from the angel's body, grasping him tighter, absorbing the heat radiating off his body. But it still wasn't enough. Castiel's need was infectious, coursing through Dean's body like never before. Reluctantly, Dean slid off Castiel's lap and onto his feet, reaching for his own belt buckle when two hands stopped him.

"Dean…" Castiel said, rising to his feet. He placed a hand on the side of Dean's face, holding him gently with a sad look in his eyes. "How do I know you're not doing this just because you're under the influence of the serum?"

Dean grinned and reached up to Castiel's neck and pulling him closer until his lips brushed across the angel's ear. "Because I love you too."

Castiel shuddered and his heartbeat quickened and the thought of those words being true. "Why?" he asked, needing to be sure.

"Because you're _mine_," Dean claimed with the hint of a growl. Castiel sighed, too content to move. "You're mine, and I need you now more than ever. Ever since you raised me from hell, you've been a part of me and I'm never letting go of it. Cas, I love you so much…"

Castiel turned his head to the side a recaptured Dean's mouth, effectively cutting off the declaration. The kiss was wonderful, but the tension was rising, heartbeats raced, and the need was over powering. Dean removed his hands from Castiel's neck and raked them down his back until they reached the beltline of the fancy pants. Inspired, Castiel followed Dean's actions, breaking the kiss in order to do so. Dean had Castiel's pants and undergarments off in seconds and stood still, admiring the angel's beautiful form as his hands worked at Dean's pants.

Dean moaned internally as Castiel pulled the denim over his hips, almost falling apart with the feel of the friction. But he held on triumphantly as Castiel finished pushing the jeans and boxers all the way down. Dean reached out to pull Castiel back to him, but the angel was backing away, a light grin on his face. It was strangely enticing, seeing Jimmy's smile on Castiel. The angel rarely ever let it show. Dean wished he would more often. He followed Castiel over to the bed and pounce on him before he could back away any further. He dragged Castiel up the bed until he could let the angel fall into a soft pile of pillows. Then he lowered himself, totally blanketing Castiel with his own body. Castiel gasped as Dean's cold hands reached down, spreading his legs until they fit Dean's waist. Then Dean captured Castiel's mouth again and began moving against him, creating sinfully beautiful friction.

After a short while, Castiel picked up exactly what was going on and how Dean created such desire radiating from his lower half. He moved his hips against Dean's until he dragged a moan from the man's lips. The sound was so seductive it worked its way through Castiel until he bucked against Dean a few times. Then those cold fingers trailed down to his hips until they found his entrance. Cas cried out breathlessly, softly, as one of those magical fingers worked its way inside, stretching and massaging in places he never knew were able of being touched. Then he moaned loudly as another finger was added, encouraging Dean forward.

Then the fingers were gone, the movement, and most of the heat as Dean propped himself up on his elbows, staring deeply into Castiel's eyes. He held the angel there so he didn't realize anything had happened until something much bigger and more solid rubbed against where the fingers had just been.

"Say it," Dean whispered, his shaky breath coming heavily. "Tell me again."

"Dean," Castiel moaned pitifully. "Please…please don't stop!"

"Say it," Dean growled with a wicked grin.

"I love you," Castiel said blissfully. "I need you…inside…now!"

That was all it took for Dean's restraint. He kept his eyes locked with the angel's as he slowly entered him, pausing every now and then to let him adjust. Castiel's face was a contorted mixture of pleasure and pain and it was so damn beautiful that it made Dean swell and he had to pause again to let Cas breathe. When he was fully sheathed inside the angel, he held impossibly still, pushing his restraint past the limits. He felt Castiel's internal muscles flex and then finally relax and he allowed himself to move.

Castiel clung to Dean, his nails digging into his back and as Dean settled into a constant rhythm of movement, Cas wrapped his legs around the other man's waist, willing him to be deeper even though they were already at a point where that was impossible. All Dean could do was go faster and return harder, the bed rocking with the force of his thrusts. He reached down, knowing what Castiel needed, and grasped the angel's length, closing his fist around it. Castiel cried out, extremely vocal at the new sensation. He moved his own hips, matching the tempo of Dean's thrusting, stroking, panting, and racing heartbeat.

"Dean…" he moaned, long and drawn out, quickly losing his breath. He said it over and over, encouraging Dean with the knowledge that the name was all he knew. As the pleasure became too much, he was reduced to loud moaning which only increased in volume. Dean had already lost his ability of speech, whimpering against Castiel's neck as the end came nearer.

Castiel's legs lost all their strength and fell to the side which incredibly allowed Dean to move faster. The rapid increase of pleasure was all it take to come with a cry of pure ecstasy that seemed to shudder through the whole room. That sound alone pushed Dean over the edge and he came, too, slamming harder than ever until his release filled the angel completely.

Without the strength to move, they both stayed connected, only breathing each other in. With all that he could muster, Dean rolled off Castiel and flopped heavily onto his back. Cas turned onto his side, curling up against Dean's chest. Dean wrapped an arm possessively around the angel and closed his eyes.

*~*

Sam returned to Bobby's house the next day, unsure of what to expect. Bobby never told him what he needed to stay overnight in a hotel for. He guessed it must have been something like what they did to him, locking him in the panic room until the demon blood was out of his system. When he pulled up to the house, he saw that all of the windows had been shattered into tiny pieces which littered the ground around the house like a gigantic salt line. Sam pulled out the gun from the glove compartment and left the car, excepting something dangerous to be waiting for him.

Inside was mostly quiet except for Sam's footsteps. He went through the living room and towards the bedroom, not finding any sign of a struggle so far. When he reached the top floor of the house, he stopped at the sight of a black t-shirt in the hallway. He quickly ran over to the bedroom and found it littered with clothing that had been strewn all over. Thoroughly confused, he ran back downstairs and into the kitchen where he could breathe a sigh of relief. Dean was standing at the sink, washing a plate and Castiel was sitting at the table wearing a wide grin as he licked his fingers. The sight was strange, considering Cas wasn't wearing his usual clothes which had been all Sam had seen him wear. Instead, he was wearing what looked like Dean's clothes. They were way too big on him.

"Dean," Sam said, tucking the gun into his jeans. "What happened to all the windows?"

Dean looked over his shoulder and smiled merrily. "Surprise surprise, Cas is a screamer, that one."

Castiel laughed like a little child and the house rumbled slightly. Sam was still confused until Cas got up and went over to where Dean was standing. Dean left the water running as he turned towards the angel, hooking his thumbs into the oversized jeans so that he could pull him closer until their hips connected. Sam's jaw dropped when he saw his brother kiss the angel full on the mouth…very intimately.

"Oh, god," he gasped, feeling his breakfast somersaulting in his stomach. He quickly ran out of the kitchen, leaving Dean and Cas alone.

"Sam, I'll take the next shift," Dean called out while castile nuzzled his neck. "You just go out and have some fun." Castiel looked up at Dean hopefully. "Yes," Dean sighed contentedly. "But that all depends on how long Sammy can stay gone. But I think we mighta just ruined that testy innocence of his."


End file.
